Heretic

I was raised in a small town in the Midwest. I went to church every Sunday, and I believed everything I was taught about God and Jesus. I never questioned my faith, even when I started to have doubts about some of the things I was hearing. I just figured that I didn't understand everything yet, and that I would eventually figure it out.

But then I started to read about other religions, and I started to learn about the history of Christianity. And the more I learned, the more I started to question my own beliefs. I started to wonder if maybe I had been wrong all along. I started to wonder if maybe there was no God, or if maybe Jesus wasn't really the son of God. I started to wonder if maybe everything I had been taught was just a lie.

I was scared to admit it to myself at first, but eventually I couldn't deny it any longer. I had become a heretic.

I know that the word "heretic" has a negative connotation. It conjures up images of people being burned at the stake or being excommunicated from their communities. But I don't see myself as a heretic in that sense. I'm not trying to start a new religion or to overthrow the existing ones. I'm just trying to find the truth.

I don't know what the future holds for me. I don't know if I'll ever find the answers I'm looking for. But I do know that I can't go back to believing what I used to believe. I can't go back to being a blind follower. I have to keep searching, even if it means questioning everything I thought I knew.

I know that my journey will be difficult. I know that I will face opposition from people who don't understand me. But I'm not afraid. I'm not going to let anyone silence me. I'm going to keep speaking my truth, even if it means I have to stand alone.